


Not a NSFW Collection

by Adwen



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adwen/pseuds/Adwen
Summary: I sawthisfic challenge where all the prompts are from porn movies but the ficlets have to be sfw, and it seemed interesting enough to try!
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 40
Kudos: 22





	1. “Stop. I can’t handle another load!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I post any silmarillion fic and the first time I write maglor at all... I'm not really taking these seriously (at all), it's more like a fun way to get back into writing and hopefully figure these characters out. Thus, the ratings, characters, and pairings will almost certainly change... Still, hope you enjoy!
> 
> (The title is 100% a reference to dungeons and daddies for the absolutely zero people who mighta been curious about that)

“Stop. I can’t handle another load!”

Maedhros looked utterly unimpressed. “Who told you to pack your entire wardrobe?” He let the box fall on the floor. Maglor winced at the pointed, almost judgemental, thump it made. 

“Stop pounding up there!” Yelled Celegorm from the room below. “I swear, if I get  _ one  _ more sprinkle of dust on me--”

With the ease of long practice, Maglor tuned him out. He rolled his aching shoulders and sighed. The room was only half-unpacked, and he still had his entire strings collection to arrange. The flute section was partially in pieces, he hadn’t had time to ensure his percussion instruments were still alright, and worse of all… his wardrobe was still being moved up.

Maglor hadn’t even realized he brought so much clothing. He just shoved clothing inside the numerous boxes while packing and focused on the things he actually cared about--namely, his instruments, and his sheet music.

What could he say? If he ended up without a roof over his head and with only the clothes on his back, as long as he had an instrument in his hand and a tune in his head he’d be alright.

Maglor paused to consider the musicality of that statement (perhaps worth following) and its practicality (blatantly wrong--well, surely he’d be able to play for money, but he certainly wouldn’t be comfortable. Still, poetic license must be accepted in these trying times). 

Seeing him get distracted, Maedhros sighed and made his way down the stairs again. Maglor ignored this as well and continued unpacking while he hummed. 

Certainly, things could be worse. At least here in Alqualondë he was close to the premier music academy in Valinor. 

It was only… couldn’t he just come with a small traveling satchel's worth of clothing? This was too much! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this is modern au or happy times in valinor fic but either way apparently boxes exist bc i didn't wanna say 'crates' and lock myself into valinor au for this. either way I think maglor and co are rather young here
> 
> also i'm very amused that celegorm's line could also be the prompt for this hahahah
> 
> anyway this may be the worse thing i've written in a while but its also the ONLY thing i've written in a while so.. that's fine... i'll take what i can get for now


	2. "Oh, fuck, put it back in!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Space AU's are very fun.

The problem with spaceship innards is that they were startlingly fragile. 

Spaceship exteriors were meant to withstand a frigid expanse of unfriendly void sparsely populated by naturally-created nuclear reactors and their rocky debris that sometimes formed into planets, and when that failed, into rocks of varying size and composition.

Spaceship interiors, on the other hand, were full of cables, exhaust ports, tubes that Fingon could have sworn were there for the aesthetic alone, and the occasional odd screw. 

The screw that was now in Fingon’s hand instead of the strange panel it had been in before.

Fingon had a slight suspicion the screw was never meant to be in his hand. It came about precisely three seconds after Fingon accidentally yanked the screw out and the suddenly flashing red lights started giving him a headache.

The blaring alarm had, of course, been screeching in his ear for several minutes now, and was thus not his fault.

“Oh, fuck,” Maedhros cursed, glancing over from where he hung upside down trying to fix a leaky vent, “put it back in!”

“It doesn’t want to go back in!” 

“Try harder!”

“Trying hard is what started this! The screw broke,” Fingon hissed, ineffectively trying to shove it in. He met resistance half-way, so either the spaceship was even more fucked up than they thought (always a lovely thing to happen when stranded in an enemy sector!), or Fingon fucked up even more than he thought.

He was an archeologist, dammit, not an engineer! Where was one of Maedhros’ various siblings when you actually needed them?

Heck, even Argon (starship nerd that he was) would be welcome. Or Artanis! She was clever. It would be worth whatever roasting he got as a side effect if she bailed them out. 

The vent Maedhros was trying to fix chose that moment to spray gas at him (water vapor, thankfully. Fingon didn’t want to think about what he’d do if his only companion got poisoned), and Maedhros untangled himself while coughing up half a lung.

The alarms were still blaring. 

“Oh, fuck this shit,” Fingon threw the screw into one of his pockets and stood to gain better perch and enough room for momentum. He kicked at the panel while Maedhros covered his face with his hands in despair and groaned.

The lights stopped. 

Maedhros dropped one hand. “That  _ worked _ ?” He asked, voice heavy with disbelief.

“That always works,” said Fingon. 

Either that or he just broke the spaceship enough that the lights stopped flashing, but Fingon will take what victories he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why does my fingon voice have such long sentences with no breaks and a lot of commas... anyway day 2 is done! yay! 
> 
> I realize that because maedhros is my favorite character he's probably going to heavily feature in this ahahah
> 
> fingon being an archeologist is a reference to [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20373376) which is a great space au I LOVE everything about it


	3. “Oh my god, I think this is the biggest one I’ve ever seen!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm and Aredhel observe some dinosaurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i called it a safari for lack of better word but what /would/ they call it??? safari comes from arabic... i mean... maybe in a weird translation from elvish to westron to english its a safari lol

“Oh my god, I think this is the biggest one I’ve ever seen!” Tyelkormo whispered. He grabbed Írissë’s arm to brace his excitement against, and pulled her closer to the narrow opening in the rocks as he did so.

She nudged him none too gently in the side with her elbow until he relinquished his view and she took her turn looking at the nest. “Oh wow,” she whispered back. “That’s--huge.”

It really was. Tyelkormo couldn’t see it now, of course, his view blocked by the damp rock outcropping, but he could feel the echo of its gargantuan footsteps reverberate through the ground. 

He pressed his ear to the ground to feel them clearer, the slow _thump… thump… thump…_ of the roaming gentle giants in Yavanna’s gardens. Technically, Tyelkormo and Írissë weren’t supposed to be this far into her massive plains and fields without maia supervision. 

If anyone asked, Tyelkormo got distracted, wandered off, and got lost (in that order) and his dearest cousin came after him to ensure he returned safely.

If, say, the twins specifically asked because they, too, also wanted to get distracted, wander off, and get lost, Tyelkormo had been unofficially tracking down scraps of knowledge from Yavanna and Orome’s maiar about the supposedly largest creatures to ever walk Arda for weeks now, and finally weaseled out the knowledge of their location.

So here they were, lost on an illegal safari. Terribly sorry, Lady Yavanna, won’t ever happen again. 

But that was for whenever they got caught.

In the meanwhile, Tyelkormo elbowed Írissë (who had taken out her sketchpad, the sneak. Did she think sketching them would grant her more viewing time?) and resumed his place observing the gigantic not-quite-birds as they stretched their long necks up to the tree canopy and ate by the branchful.

Írissë grumbled beside him, finishing the sketch from her excellent memory, and Tyelkormo grinned. 

Illegal safari trips were, indeed, the best. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really love all the little fanon things about dinosaurs in valinor. also in my heart of hearts this is totally for tolkien gen week day 1 or 2, which i was too exhausted to actually finish the /actual/ stuff i wanted to make for it... smh...


	4. “But what if someone hears us?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Soft Russigon (tm)

“But what if someone hears us?” Maitimo hissed. 

“And what will they do? Reprimand us for breaking curfew?” Findekáno raised an eyebrow. “Nelyo, stop worrying.”

“You should worry more,” Maitimo grumbled. Findekáno swatted him, so Maitimo dug an elbow into his cousin’s (half-cousin, the voice of his father said) side. Findekáno’s muffled yelp had him smiling, and the nervous energy under his skin started to shift from anxiety into excitement.

It really had been far too long since the two of them could relax without feeling guilty over the growing tension in Tirion.

They were pressed close as they snuck into the gardens, far away from festive eyes and thinly veiled insults. Normally, Maitimo enjoyed balls. Normally, balls were not a battleground fought with words instead of swords.

But such was Tirion as of late. 

Finally, they were out of sight; still close enough to hear the music (and to not cause scandal once courtiers realized they had left the gathering) but no longer surrounded by the bejeweled piranhas that called themselves Noldor. 

Queen Indis’ gardens had many uses, but Maitimo would always most appreciate the high, beautiful hedges, and the secluded nooks she weaved into them. In the waning hours of Telperion’s silver light, the roses glimmered pale and secretive, and it was as though no troubles could reach them behind their green and red walls.

The privacy bolstered Matimo’s spirits, and as the music shifted to a slow couple’s ballad, he held out a hand to Findekáno. “Would you care to dance?”

Findekáno’s blue eyes lit with joy. He, like Maitimo, had been dancing most of the night. Still, there was no weariness in his smile as he took Maitimo’s hand and followed him in dance until the ball ended and the music stopped. 


	5. “I’ve never met someone as tight as you.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maedhros regrets his life choices and Fingon enjoys this too much, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by the pain I feel every time I stretch.... I should really have better sitting posture...

“I’ve never met someone as tight as you.” Maedhros stifled a whine as Fingol pushed his leg further back. “It’s kind of pathetic,” Fingon added. 

“Has it been thirty seconds yet?” Maedhros asked through gritted teeth. It was all he could to do not let the numerous curses he’s been mentally leveling at his friend escape the confines of his mind. Though, surely, Fingon would understand.

“How about we try for forty-five seconds this time?” Fingon suggested, proving that Feanor was right and all the Nolofinweans were, indeed, scum.

“ _Fingon_.”

“All right, all right.” The moment Fingon released his leg it flopped onto the mat, aching all over. Maedhros groaned in relief as the taught muscles returned to their sad, shriveled, normal status. 

_Come with me to Aunt Lalwen’s dance studio,_ Fingon had said. 

_She’s having a special beginner class,_ Fingon had said.

_It’ll be good exercise_ , Fingon had said.

_It’s a special beginner’s ballet class,_ Fingon had _not_ said.

_Your soul is going to be sucked out and thrown into the netherworld, the first person to die from stretching out unused muscles,_ Fingon had definitely not said.

Fingon, Maedhros was reminded, was a terrible, terrible human being.

“Now for the other side!” Aunt Lalwen said from the other side of the room. Maedhros caught her eye and she grinned at him, barely winded by the workout that left Maedhros a sweaty disaster.

She, too, was a terrible human being. The one saving grace was that she insisted he “really stretch out his muscles, really Maitimo, you pain me. When was the last time you did exercise” after most of the students in her class had left.

Now, only Fingon was here to witness his humiliation.

“You heard her,” said Fingon cheerfully. His fingers wiggled in demand until Maedhros lifted his other leg, and then they were back to the start.

Correction, Fingon _caused_ his humiliation.

“I hate you,” Maedhros gasped as the stretch hit him again, and sparks of pain shot straight through his leg, down to his groin, and nested somewhere in his ribs, probably.

Fingon sarcastically blew him a kiss. He didn’t even react to Maedhros flipping him off with the hand that wasn’t clenching the mat like a lifeline. 

Asshole. Maedhros was going to become supremely flexible out of _spite_. Just wait and see.

For now, though, he would settle for not crying out as Fingon increased the stretch.


	6. "I want to ride it"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyelko and Írissë's dino adventures continue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Shocking

“I want to ride it,” Írissë declared, stars glittering in her eyes and a manic grin stretching her face.

Tyelkormo looked at the raptors. The raptors squawked back at him, exposing their sharp teeth. “As the oldest and voice of reason,” Tyelkromo began, blatantly ignoring the disbelief this statement was met with, “I should note that if this goes horribly and we end up with chunks of our body missing, I’m going to be blamed, so for the record: this might be a bit insane.”

Huan, ever the wisest member of his friend group, sighed and lowered his muzzle to the ground. He seemed bored and exasperated with their antics, but Tyelkormo knew he was only waiting for the opportune moment to start laughing at them. 

Írissë, who knew him far too well, snorted. 

Celegorm placed a hand on her shoulder and declared, “As your friend, I say I claim dibs on that one.” He pointed towards a large female whose bright plumage resembled an outfit Orome wore during a hunt a few months ago.

Not that  _ that  _ was his reasoning for choosing her, of course.

Írissë’s grin widened, and the two left their hidden crouches to slowly approach the raptor flock. “Tyelko, my beloved and equally insane friend, you can ride anything you want. But _ I _ claim dibs on the largest and strongest.”

Huan padded ahead of them and spoke to the raptors in their own tongue. He and Orome had been teaching him to speak to them, but until now, raptors had been second to more… traditional and less aggressive modes of transport.

Still, he understood enough that when the raptors in question consented to bear Tyelkormo and Írissë on their backs, he gave a low  _ whoop _ , and at his reaction, Írissë subtly pumped her fist into the air.

“Raptor riding, here we go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely inspired by [this fanart](https://huanhoundofvalinor.tumblr.com/post/621823780695719936/so-absynthe-minded-made-these-awesome-posts-1) of them riding raptors during a hunt


End file.
